


extra, extra

by ignitesthestars



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Multi, OT3, Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 19:12:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10315082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ignitesthestars/pseuds/ignitesthestars
Summary: “Such a cliche,” Nikolai sighs from the doorway. There’s a mug in his hand giving off lazy wisps of steam even in the relative warmth of the palace, and Alina is pretty sure she can smell coffee all the way from the bed. “The queen and her captain, caught in the act”





	

“Such a cliche,” Nikolai sighs from the doorway. There’s a mug in his hand giving off lazy wisps of steam even in the relative warmth of the palace, and Alina is pretty sure she can smell coffee all the way from the bed. “The queen and her captain, caught in the act”

Alina’s snappy comeback is waylaid as she tries to decide between leaving the warmth of the covers, and how much she wants that coffee. Behind her, Mal apparently isn’t experiencing the same turmoil.

“Yes. The illicit braiding.” His fingers are gentle as they card through her hair, feeding more of it into the sloppy braid he’s constructing. “A scandal.”

“You say that like it wouldn’t be,” Alina mutters, eyeing the mug. Nikolai lifts it to his mouth, which is definitely smirking. The jerk.

“Somehow, I doubt it’s going to beat out ‘King beds entire Triumvirate’ or ‘Queen resurrects Darkling and keeps him chained in her basement’ any time soon,” Mal says.

Nikolai swallows his mouthful, pushing off the doorframe. The door itself swings shut behind him, and neither Alina nor Mal miss the way his free hand - gloved - flicks the lock. “You forgot ‘Guard Captain actually imposter, killed Queen’s childhood best friend to take his place’.”

“Nice to know the people have confidence in my powers of observation.” Alina’s restraint cracks, and she holds out a hand towards Nikolai as he approaches. “Give me the mug.”

“And what do I get for such a sacrifice?”

“Me, not cranky. Give.”

“You, not cranky? I’m not sure I’d recognise you.”

Mal snorts, the air puffing softly against her neck. She elbows him, winning a satisfying grunt as the joint digs into his ribs. He tugs on the braid in revenge and she tips backwards into his chest with a shriek of laughter. There’s a warmth in her chest that has nothing to do with her power, Grisha or otherwise. Mal’s mouth finds the side of her throat; Alina sighs, arching her neck to one side, locking eyes with Nikolai as the captain of her guard whispers kisses over her skin.

The braid falls over one shoulder, forgotten. Nikolai’s gaze darkens, and the shiver that works down Alina’s spine is only partially caused by Mal’s touch. She’s wrapped in silk and there’s a blanket haphazardly strewn over her lap, but the way Nikolai looks at her is almost physical, peeling cloth away from skin as his eyes scrape over her.

The both of them. She watches his attention shift to Mal, the shift of muscles in his arms loosely curling around her waist, the curve of his lips at Alina’s throat. The breath escapes her in one long, slow release; she holds both hands out to him this time, and it’s not for the coffee.

“You two are going to be the death of me,” he mutters, setting the mug on a convenient side table. 

“It’d be a historic way to go,” Mal points out, and Alina squirms a little at the huff of air sliding over her wet skin.

“Ah, yes. ‘Ravkan King, murdered by own libido’. One for the books.”

“We’ll - cover it up.” Alina doesn’t bother to hide the hitch in her breath as Mal’s fingers find the gap between her sleep singlet and the loose pants she’s wearing, sliding over her stomach. “‘Saint Actually Sinner - Murders Husband with aid of Demon Lover’.”

“Why am I a demon?”

“Makes the - makes the story better.”

Nikolai is at the foot of the bed by now, pausing only to roll his eyes at the two of them before he reaches out to take Alina’s hands. “Do you two always need to talk so much?”

The comment is so egregiously hypocritical that both Alina and Mal pause. Mal even lifts his head to stare at him, and a lopsided grin twitches to life across the king’s face - not sardonic or smarmy for once, but a real, genuine amusement.

“Shut up and hurry up,” Alina grumbles, curling fingers around gloved hands and pulling until the weight of him tips forward. He nearly overbalances, but then Mal’s free hand is there. He steadies the other man’s shoulder as Nikolai’s legs bracket Alina’s hips and Mal’s knees both, and for a second they’re just a tangle of person, taking comfort (and maybe a little more) in the three of them being in one place for once.

Nikolai drops his head, pressing his forehead to Alina’s. She hums softly, pleased, letting go of his hands and getting started on the first of approximately one million buttons marching up his shirt. Mal’s fingers leave her (although the growing heat in the pit of her stomach remains), and it’s only Nikolai’s sharp intake of breath that clues her into what he’s doing. A beat passes, two, and then the slap of leather hitting the floor reaches her her ears, followed quickly by another.

When Nikolai reaches up to cup her faces, his hands are bare.

“Happy?” he asks, mouth moving against her lips.

“Ecstatic,” Alina says, stealing a quick kiss before shifting her head so Mal can do the same.

There’s not much talking after that.


End file.
